Shackles of Desperation

Oh, but desperation does drive you to such ends...

One a sword like the swiftest falcon,

The other a tome, air moving without return.

Once a bud they split in noble failing,

Shards of a whole, a nation's calling.

Pay a heavy price, if you wish so dear,

The requisites fulfilled the whole awaits to appear.

A drop of Heracles' blood, breaks the iron cuff

Another drop, and away with a huff

Some wisdom of Sir Kai's, even it be gruff

Too much of one, and things may vanish in a puff.

Hand of the saint, wields the golden spindle,

Weaving a tapestry of magic, for the golden cradle.

It matters not the colour of the blood,

Blue is gentle, while red is a flood.

What matters is the traitorous quality,

A question of the heart's beating loyalty.

She closed her eyes, muttering the words over and over again in her mind rapidly. She was running out of time. The ground beneath her feet was starting to warm up. In less than a minute she would be entrapped in this snare of dark magic, having her life force sucked out of her body.

The first four lines describe the Sacred Twins and that's it. So the actual riddle must be behind, right?

"You know," Sir Alexander laughed softly. "You're really pathetic. Why didn't Belle manage to finish you off, huh? Seems like she was not as useful as I thought she would be. She had so many chances to kill you off, you know, but she screwed all of them up. Seems like it is true, you really have to do some things by yourself."

The next two lines say that I have a few requirements to meet before I can unlock the Sacred Twins. If I can change them back into their original form, it would grant me a weapon that may be powerful enough for me to take on Sir Alexander.

The icy wind howled around her, enclosing her in a circle. She felt vulnerable, as though she was blatantly standing in an open field during a thunderstorm, waiting to be struck by the lightning.

A drop of Heracles' blood? If Heracles was a mythical hero, there would be no such tangible thing as his blood, unless it is referring to his qualities, like bravery, supernatural strength and such. But how do you fulfill these requisites if they are intangible? And it would be gone in another drop, does that call for moderation?

The sound of magic crackled as she closed her eyes, brows knitted together in concentration. She did not care that she was inches away from what may be her death. She would need to solve this puzzle, otherwise it would be a sure death.

Sir Kai…one of the Knights of the Round Table, steward to King Arthur. But what does it mean by his wisdom? For wisdom is not Merlin more famous? His wisdom? As in how to ride a horse and wield a broadsword? The next line would be another call for moderation?

She heard Sir Alexander mocking her. "Not even going to defend yourself, wench? Well that makes it all the simpler for me then! I'll just kill you and take those treasures, then Jehanna will be mine!"

Hand of the saint with the golden spindle? Would saint here to refer to the legendary saint of swords? But the saint of swords doesn't hold a golden spindle! He held a Wo Dao! And he certainly did no weaving of the sort, neither was he skilled in magic. Unless there is deeper meaning in these two lines, something more about the combination of magic and melee…

She heard the furious howl as the dark magic sprang to life, taking the form of a savage beast with gaping jaws, almost like a hound from hell. It opened its mouth and roared ravenously, stalking her with cunning and calculation.

And the last four lines, they talked about the colour of blood, which would most likely be a reference to the birth of the individual. It means to say that birth status doesn't matter? Is it trying to ask for a loyal person to the crown, regardless of his or her birth status?

With a cry like the roar of thunder, the beast sprang at her, jaws wide open. Grey sticky saliva dripped from its canines as it launched itself at her neck.

"Farewell, fool. That is the path of a loyal Jehannan soldier," Sir Alexander said scornfully. "Courage, patriotism, loyalty…all these…what do they do for you besides bring you to an early death?"

And she knew.

In one instant, the whole of the riddle was revealed to her.

She could almost smell the beast's putrid breath in her face.

Heracles' blood refers to his courage, but what is needed is enough courage to create heroism, not foolhardiness. Sir Kai's wisdom is loyalty, but what is wanted is discerning loyalty, not blind faith in the leaders. The hand of the saint refers to the skill of the wielder of the blade, and the golden spindle refers to the instrument for success. The magical tapestry refers to the success itself, and the golden cradle would refer to the birth of weapon made from the combined Sacred Twins. It would mean a combination of both magic and melee, just as Saleh had once mentioned. As the for last, it asks for a loyal heart, without caring about the nobility of the person.

She knew what it wanted.

The Sacred Stone began glowing with a red fire.

She knew what she needed to do.

Using her free hand, she clutched tightly at the burning amulet around her neck. "I do."

The moment the words fell from her lips, everything froze around her, as though they had fallen out of the passage of time. The magical black beast froze in mid-air, as though suspended from the ceiling like a prop. Everyone around her was in their respective positions, resembling blocks of ice sculptures. It seemed almost unreal, like she was standing in a painting.

She blinked.

There was a shimmer of golden light that was moving towards her. It was nothing but a sliver of radiance, but it shook and trembled as though it was alive. Two beams of light shot out, and reached towards her and took the Sacred Twins.

The Sacred Stone around her neck glowed brighter than ever, almost blinding. Yet, she felt that she could perfectly trust this shimmer of light, whatever ethereal creature it may be.

"You have come a long way." A voice seemed to come from the golden light, directed at her. It was soothing and calm, and it made her feel perfectly at peace. "It is brave of you to sacrifice yourself for Jehanna, and it is indeed noble. You have true intentions, and you have solved the riddle. Well done."

"Thank you," she replied. She still needed to take the sword the save Jehanna, so could she…

"Be patient, young one," the light said softly. "You have all but passed the first and easiest trial of them all. To merge the Sacred Twins requires a tremendous sacrifice, and involves a risk that only one with great courage and determination can undertake. If you merge the Sacred Twins, you do understand that you are tying your life force with it. That means that the Sacred Weapon will stay together as long as it is in your hand, but if it falls out of your hands, it will separate once more into two individual Sacred Twins. However, should it fall out of your hands and into enemy hands during the course of the battle, you too, will be lost. Do you understand what you are getting yourself into? Do you still agree with wholeheartedly to merge the Sacred Twins?"

She nodded. Too many people were dependent on her. The fate of the entire nation rested on her shoulders. She could not lose. "I agree."

The shimmer seemed to smile. "Very well then, we shall let the Sacred Twins themselves judge you, shall we? We'll let them decide whether you are worthy of wielding the Sacred Weapon."

She felt a rush of air pass through her, enveloping her. It seemed as though, suddenly, she had become light as a feather, with no weight whatsoever to speak of, and she was floating in the air like a bubble.

The Sacred Twins glowed before her. The Sacred Stone around her neck was burning hot to the touch, and it too shone softly.

She held her breath. As the Sacred Twins continued to glow, she felt as though someone was perusing her life, going through every memory in her mind. The light seemed to penetrate her thoughts and understand her desires, her wishes, her faults and her virtues. And it would judge, as though there was an invisible balance weighing her worth.

After a long pause, the Sacred Twins shone brighter and brighter, till at last the light was so glaring that she had to look away.

"You are indeed worthy," the light said, relief in its voice. "One of the first few who have been judged by the Sacred Twins to be pure of intent in your wielding of the Sacred Weapon."

She heaved a sigh of relief, staring in awe at the new weapon before her. It was a long slim blade, with the sharpness of the Audhulma but the speed of the Excalibur. A red jewel shone on the silver hilt. Fascinated, she reached out for it, but her fingers bumped against an invisible glass wall.

"Why can't I take it?" She asked.

The light flickered. "The Sacred Weapon is an elusive thing. It will not willingly submit itself to you just because you passed its first test and its judgment. If you want to take it away with you, you have to summon it by its name."

Summon it by its name? She frowned. "But I don't know its name."

The shimmer flickered again. "Are you sure you don't know its name? If it has accepted you, and the two have established that right bond, you will know its name. All you have to do is think hard, and persist."

Think hard and persist? She closed her eyes. What could be the name of the Sacred Weapon? Was it supposed to be in some difficult abstruse magic book or something? She hardly did any research about these weapons, and she would hardly have any knowledge of their naming and whatsoever.

Ring of wealth and prosperity.

"What?" she muttered. Something was in her mind, whispering so softly that she could barely make out the words.

The ring of wealth and prosperity, devoted to Odin of Nordic Legends, Leader of the Nordic Gods, Chief of the Aenir.

She had heard about that legend before, something about two branches of gods, the Aenir being the victorious and dominating branch. Odin was…the chief of the Nordic Gods, who wield a spear and rode an eight-legged horse named Sleipnir. But…he wore a ring?

Indeed, someone had once mentioned the name of the ring, but she could not remember. The glow of the Sacred Weapon was as bright as ever, but it gave no indication of relenting its last trial.

The ring…what was the name of the ring?

She frowned. Her mind combed through her memories, leafing through the pages that had once contained the myths of Nordic mythology, the names of the individual gods, their family trees and the powerful magical weapons they each possessed. But she just couldn't remember.

No! For everyone who is counting on me, for Saleh, I must remember!

All of a sudden, it was though the light had extinguished, and the presence of the Sacred Weapon and Sacred Stone gone. The flicker of light had vanished, and she was alone. She opened her eyes in wonderment as she stared at the interior of a limestone cave, just like the one that she had gone into to retrieve the Sacred Twins.

There was water in the cavern, tingling the air with water vapour. Slowly, she watched as beads of water ran down the marble surfaces of the stalactites to the tip, hanging precariously.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip? A dripping stalactite? The dripper?

DRIPPER!

The answer hit her with such force that she nearly staggered from the thought in jubilation. Of course! Why didn't she think of it earlier?

She reached out her hand steadily, as though calling the sword over into her grasp. "Draupnir." She said. There was not a single hint of trepidation or hesitation in her voice. She was sure, so confident that she would have gambled her life on it. "Draupnir, I summon you."

The sword glowed brighter and slowly shifted towards her, floating like a bubble in midair. The hilt rested comfortably in her hand, and the blade immediately adjusted its length to suit her strength and height.

"I have a few last words of caution for you," the shimmer said. "Your road will not be easy, for you have entwined yourself with the Sacred Weapon. It has great power, but with great power comes great responsibility, as they say. Use it wisely, and never allow it to leave your hand until the battle is won. If it is torn from you forcibly, you will find that your soul will leave with it, leaving nothing but an empty shell forever more."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"As long as you live, Draupnir will respond to your call and your call only. You have become the mistress of the sword, and it will be loyal to you," the shimmer stated. "Once I leave, the battle will continue, are you ready?"

She nodded again, shifting into defensive stance.

"Good luck," the shimmer said and disappeared.

All around her, the people unfroze, moving their limbs once more. Shouts filled the air, and the black beast raced for her throat.

Sidestepping the beast, she lifted the sword and deftly sliced the beast's throat with Draupnir.

"My my, the Sacred Twin of Jehanna, I presume?" Sir Alexander chuckled evilly. "That just makes victory all the more easier for me. I love upgrades!" He withdrew another tome from his own cloak. "And here I have my own upgrade. Today, we shall see whose Sacred Twin shall triumph, Jehanna's Sacred Twin versus Grado's Gleipnir."

Before she could respond to his statement, he had unleashed the fury of Gleipnir. There was a myriad of patterns forming around her, an octagon made from black magic. Surrounding her, they enclosed her in a spinning vortex, preventing her from escaping before the main spell hit.

Without another second to spare, she dived out of the octagon, watching as a blast of dark magic created a hole on the ground where she had just stood.

"Give me that sword!" Sir Alexander shouted harshly, reaching out.

She stared in open-mouthed horror as black tendrils seemed to snake from his palm and flay towards her. The tendrils snaked around Draupnir, which shuddered, and began to pull it from her grip.

"No!" She grabbed onto the hilt with both hands, determined not to let go. If she did, it would be in Grado hands and their battle would have been lost. If she did let go, not only would Jehanna be lost, she herself would be lost along with the fall of Jehanna.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to find a spot where she could get a grip and prevent herself from being dragged over, but the floor was as smooth as glass. She could feel her soles dragging against the floor as Draupnir was pulled closer and closer to Sir Alexander's hand.

No! She screamed mentally, but she was helpless to do anything.

"Say farewell to your country, Princess," Sir Alexander laughed as he reached for the hilt.

"No!" She shouted. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the arm and pulled hard. All the muscles in her arm ached as she tugged at the hilt, her fingernails digging into the raised designs on the silver metal. Draupnir tilted towards her. Slowly, she took a step back, then another step, pulling Draupnir steadily away from Sir Alexander's grasp.

"Bitch!" Sir Alexander cursed as he retracted his hold on the sword, causing her to topple backwards and slam her head heavily against the invisible glass wall. Taking Gleipnir, he flung open the tome again to a page and flung his sleeve in her direction, muttering furiously under his breath.

The same eerie octagon appeared over her head, black and purple. She looked up groggily from where she was still trying to recover from the impact of the knock against the glass wall. As she attempted to stand up, the magic of Gleipnir hit her full on the face.

She staggered. The dark magic ran through her veins, like thousands of needles pricking mercilessly into her skin. Her heart seemed as though it was being compressed, making it difficult for her to breathe or even think properly. Ever muscle, every fibre, every cell in her body was demanding a release from the pain. It felt as though someone was slowly slicing every part of her while she was still conscious and alive.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to allow a single whimper to pass through her lips even in her agony. Sharp objects tore at her flesh, like shrapnel being flung in the midst of a cyclone. Gusts of wind howled around her like ravenous beasts, the air like blades of steel cutting into her skin.

Still, she held on tightly to Draupnir, refusing to let go of the only hope she had. The wind tore at her fingers, clawed at her flesh, bit her skin, trying to force her to unfurl her fingers, but she doggedly persisted in clutching the sword.

Very slowly, she straightened and took a step forward, towards Sir Alexander.

Draupnir was blazing with an icy fire, brighter than a thousand torches together. In the chaos around her, Draupnir appeared like the guiding light that would lead her to eventual success and safety.

Difficultly, she put her right foot down again, making another step.

Sir Alexander was merely a few steps away from her, and if she could get across to him, that traitor, she would ensure Jehanna's victory.

Gleipnir was glowing in his hand too, as he scowled at her and unleashed more of Gleipnir's tremendous power. To her, a mere mortal, the intense pain was indescribable, and it would have flung her into the abyss of despair if not for the glowing blue sword in her hand.

She took another step, then another.

The shrapnel cut her face, and she could feel the wind tearing her wounds open, but she could hardly care. She needed to get to him.

You can do this…

Slowly, she put another foot forward.

She was nearly before him.

For the first time in the course of the battle, she saw fear registered on Sir Alexander's face.

More and more shrapnel was flung at her, but she did not care. All she needed to do was take more steps to reach him, trap him in his own corner as he had intended to trap her.

She was right before him.

My turn, Sir Alexander. This is for my country, for my Queen, for Joshua, for Gerik, for Tethys, for Ewan, for Stefan, for my best friend.

This is for everyone. And this is for me.

Raising Draupnir high above her head, she brought down the blazing sword against his chest.

Sir Alexander screamed as the blade froze him and as sharp green gusts of wind attacked him mercilessly. He made a futile attempt to claw at Gleipnir, trying to invoke some of its hidden power, but the tome lay silent, no longer glowing. The glass wall around her shattered with a deafening crash. As the magic from Gleipnir died down, he too collapsed onto the ground, splayed.

The last gurgle died in his throat.

In the silence that ensued, she bent down slowly and picked up the fallen tome, Gleipnir, the Sacred Twin of Grado, under the scrutiny of all that were present. Decisively, she held up the tome in her left hand.

Silence.

The Jehannan soldiers and her friends broke out into cheers just as the Grado army fell noisily to their knees, surrendering since their commander was dead, and their Sacred Twin was in Jehannan hands.

She made her way over to her friends. "Seems like we won," she said, giving them a small smile.

Before she could react, she was bear-hugged by Queen Ismaire, who wept in relief and joy at their victory. Gerik grinned as he rubbed the top of her head and Tethys gave her another bear-hug. Stefan, always as aloof, congratulated her nonchalantly, although he too had a relieved expression. Ewan danced around in joy, giving shouts of 'hip hip hurray' that was echoed by the Jehannan soldiers.

Saleh…I couldn't have done it without you…

She withdrew from Tethys' embrace. "I need to go to the frontlines and let them know."

Queen Ismaire nodded. "Go, Marisa. Take Amber. You will reach the frontline in scarcely a day."

Running to the stables with Draupnir in one hand and Gleipnir in the other, she leapt atop Amber, who reared and took off.

The wind gently caressed her skin and her wounds as she rode swiftly over the plains and sand without halting for a rest. Indeed, in less than a day, she could already see the border, where the red tents of Jehanna and the black tents of Grado contrasted sharply, separated only by a small strip of barren land and a wide but shallow river.

It was late at night, but the sound of Amber's hooves thundering against the ground alerted the guards, who woke all the soldiers.

One by one, the Jehannan soldiers crawled out from their tents, a look of surprise on their faces.

Their faces paled as they sighted the Sacred Twin and Sacred Weapon in her hands, and they fell to their knees, heads bowed. As she rode further, they followed her, like followers after their leader.

"What is it so late at-" Joshua emerged from one of the tents. "Oh." His eyes widened as he saw Draupnir, and his eyes widened further when he saw Gleipnir in her hand.

Nodding at him, she continued riding, splashing through the water, till she was before the Grado tents, where the soldiers had already gathered in full armour ready to defend an attack. Not saying a word, she raised Gleipnir high up in the air, for all of them to see.

Silence.

Then the Grado army fell to their knees. With the Sacred Twin in her hand, they had to unconditionally surrender. They had fallen. By sheer default, the sovereignty to rule Grado had passed to her.

She smiled haughtily as she held up both Draupnir and Gleipnir, the two weapons lighting up the night sky like two beacons. She was sandwiched between two armies, both of which would obey her.

She would never forget the day when Jehannan and Grado both bowed down to her.

Author's Note:

Sigh...I didn't really like writing this chapter...

Going to update soon.

~ snowylavendermist